


Underestimation is Bad For Your Health

by CavannaRose



Series: Assorted Marvel Fics [8]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Kidnapping, Kissing, Physical Torture, Rescue, Seriously guys it gets a little graphic, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Rumlow has a particular definition of monster, and a way he plans to deal with such folk.





	Underestimation is Bad For Your Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebeastinsideusall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeastinsideusall/gifts).



> I've been reading madly through the entire collection of thebeastinsideusall and her Rogan fics are seriously life, so I thought I'd write her a little something in gratitude, I'm sorry if it's not great!

Capturing the mutant known as Rogue would be a feather in any HYDRA agent's cap, but moreso for one like Rumlow. He hated those born with gifts beyond what he felt nature had intended, and deep down inside he was jealous. Jealous of the feats of strength, the flying, and the way they walked through the world like they were owed some kind of respect just for being a freak of nature. Worse, so many of them had that sense that whatever moral code they were clinging to was far superior to that of everyone around them.

This one, though, this one was a particularly horrible kind of monster. Hiding it under a thick veneer of southern charm and sex appeal, as if she wasn't death walking on two legs, just as much as he was. The difference was, he was honest about it. The captive was looking a little worse for wear, bound to a sturdy chair with thick chains, strong enough to hold creatures like the Asset that escaped with the help of the Star Spangled Pain In The Ass. Her hands though, they were bound in heavy leather gloves, clasped into fists and locked closed to keep her from touching anything.

He paced around her a few times, not saying anything, simply examining her. Letting his dark scowls and silence work on her mental state. Finally, he came around to stand in front of her. Rumlow sneered at the captive, face too close as he clasped gloved fingers around her chin, running the other through her thick auburn hair, tangling in the pale streak.

“So many of you costumed jerks around, but you still got caught out alone. Mutants. Freaks. Monsters. The lot of you should be wiped off the planet, but until that happens, well I’m here to send a message to your old man in the chair.” He lifted one of her gloves hands, releasing the cuff that bound it to the chair she was sitting in. She struggled against his grip, but the chains weighed her down too much to fight much.

"You ain't gonna wanna do what ya thinkin' of doin', shugah. Ah can promise ya that." She put on a brave face, fighting for control of her arm. He jerked forward a few steps, and then righted himself with a sharp yank on Rogue's wrist.

“Do you think you need working hands to use your supposed powers?” His sneer grew broader as her eyes widened in fear and disbelief. “Let’s find out.” Rumlow slammed her hand down on the arm of the chair, gripping her wrist tightly and pulling a heavy mallet from his utility belt.

She desperately tried to focus, tried to muster her strength as she fought his hold, but the fear had paralyzed her. She wasn't used to being held helpless, and that lack of experience was showing. With another dark laugh, Rumlow brought the mallet down on her delicate fingers, the air filling with the sounds of snapping bones and high pitched screams of pain. Again and again, the mallet rose and fell, until what was once her hand was little more than a misshapen lump of meat and skin, white shards of bone glinting in the bloody mess under the harsh interrogation light.

She wasn’t screaming anymore, her voice too hoarse as she fell into broken sobs. The vicious creature merely laughed, lifting her chin again, examining her tear streaked cheeks. “You’d almost be pretty if I didn’t know you were a monster.”

He leaned forward, face coming too close to hers once more and she tried to recoil. He merely laughed, releasing her and UN-gloving her second hand. “Brace yourself, mutant, round two is always a little longer.”

He was taking his time now, clearly enjoying it as he forced her fingers to spread wide. Mallet swinging loosely in his hand, as if in anticipation.

A flash of lightning split the air outside the window, and it was as if she found that inner well of strength Rumlow had bullied out of her. She twisted her hand around, catching the exposed flesh of his wrist under her fingers and squeezing with strength she didn’t know she had left. “Ya want a monstah? Ah’ll show ya a monstah.” She could feel her powers working, draining the life force from her tormentor. He shook, tried to pull her hand from his arm, falling to his knees, but she refused to release him, watching as the veins on his arms and up his neck began to stand out in morbid relief.

She released him as the heavy wooden door splintered inwards, the Wolverine crashing into the room and charging forward. He skidded to a stop, sharp eyes quickly taking in the scene, the ruined hand, the heavy chains, the still-breathing Rumlow pale-faced on the floor. Rogue's head whipped towards him, her green eyes flashing to an angry brown momentarily.

“Easy girl. I’m here.” Three times his claws rose and fell, twice through the chains that bound the Southern beauty, and once through the jugular of the man who had violated her person so horrifically. She might not have killed him, but he had no compunction about giving the bastard what he deserved. Whispering words of comfort so gentle that few would believe they came from him, Logan scooped Rogue up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest. “Now girl, you’re gonna have to borrow a bit of me for a few hours. Okay?”

Her eyes desperately sought out his, worry and pain leaving her confused. “Ah said Ah wouldn’t use this curse no more, and shugah ya...”

He shushed her, trapping her lips with his own ever so softly, licking at her mouth, his stubble abrading the delicate skin of her lips and cheeks. As he deepened the kiss with teeth and tongue he stumbled, leaning against the wall to keep hold of her. In a moment, she brought two hands to cup his cheeks, the last of her fingers snapping into place as she pushed him away. They both sighed at the separation, but the loss of colour in his cheeks suggested that they had overplayed the kiss.

Rogue disentangled her legs from his arms, letting her body slide down his, protected by the uniform they both wore. Logan fishes a pair of small green and yellow gloves from his belt, and with a smile of gratitude she pulled them on, dried blood sticky on her now healed hand, making the fabric catch uncomfortably. Once they were on she cupped his cheek again, face full of the love she barely dared speak aloud. “Mah hero,.”

He brushed his masked face against her forehead, nuzzling her affectionately, a poignant counterpoint to his rough, growling voice. “I ain’t no hero, Stripes, let’s get ya home where you belong.”


End file.
